


For the First Time

by sackoflemons



Category: Leap of Faith - Menken/Slater/Cercone
Genre: Alcohol, Backstory, Con Artists, F/M, Gen, Loss of Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 15:59:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5297411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sackoflemons/pseuds/sackoflemons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some "firsts" for Jonas before he became Leap of Faith Jonas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For the First Time

**Author's Note:**

> Jonas and his partner are both 16 in the sex scene, which isn't considered underage everywhere so I didn't tag it as such. But if that bothers you, here's a warning!

Jonas Nightingale’s life of crime started with shoplifting. He was still Jack Newton at the time, and eleven years old. He started off small: Twinkies from the convenience store on his way home from school. His foster parents were very strict about snacking between meals (“You kids are going to eat us out of house and home, aren’t the meals I provide good enough?”) and Jack and Sam were always so hungry. They weren’t allowed to have junk food, either, and Jack longed for something other than bland meat and vegetables. And it would be a cold day in hell before they’d give him spending money of his own. So this was more like necessity, really. Right? And he’d share one with his little sister, of course. He was sure the store owner, the cops, and his foster parents wouldn’t feel the same, though, so his heart was hammering as he glanced at the cashier for the thousandth time. He was sure he was hidden behind the candy/snacks aisle of the tiny convenience store, and the cashier was a bored-looking teenager reading a comic book. Still, did he really need a Twinkie that much?

Suddenly, almost without thinking about it, Jack reached for a package of Twinkies and quickly pocketed them, his hand shaking. After an agonizing few seconds his gaze drifted back to the cashier, who was still engrossed in the comic book on the counter.

He couldn’t believe it had been so easy. He started for the door, feeling his nervousness melt away. “See ya,” he said to the cashier with a wave, and then he was free, he’d made it, he was outside and a package of Twinkies richer and no one suspected a thing.

After his foster parents went to bed that night, Jack gave one of the slightly smashed Twinkies to Sam, whose face lit up briefly before turning into a frown. “But I thought we weren’t allowed to have these.”

“What they don’t know won’t hurt them,” Jack said. “So they can’t know about this, Sam. Okay?”

She nodded, licking cream from the middle of the Twinkie. “Okay.”

“And I don’t know when I’ll get more, so eat that slowly.” She nodded again, and Jack felt a swell of pride that overwhelmed the lingering guilt. He’d made his little sister happy, not to mention defied their awful foster parents. It made him feel powerful and in-control for the first time in his life.

That was the day Jack learned that confidence was all he needed.

\---

By the time he was sixteen, Jack’s foster parents had gone from rigid and restrictive to almost negligent. Maybe it was just that they’d had enough of Jack getting into trouble in school to care anymore. They gave the kids food and shelter, but that was about it. No more strict diets, no curfews, and no questions asked. It was like they’d just given up. That was fine with Jack and Sam. As soon as Jack turned eighteen, he was out of there and taking Sam with him.

Jack knew by then that whatever he wanted, he could easily get. And what he wanted more than anything that summer was Katie Spencer, the beautiful girl from his English class. The way her rich brown curls had cascaded over her bare shoulders on that last day of class had been burned into his memory for weeks.

Unfortunately, Katie was already dating. . . Jack thought his name was Adam, but that was irrelevant. She wasn’t going to be with Adam for that much longer.

It only took him a week to woo the girl; if she were honest with herself, it had been even faster than that. There was just something about Jack. It was like he could see into the future and he already knew everything would work out the way he wanted it to, so it was just a matter of letting things happen. She liked that; it was a refreshing change from Adam and the way he seemed so hesitant about everything. She felt a pang of guilt when she thought about Adam, but he’d get over it.

Jack felt slightly embarrassed that Katie had a car and he didn’t, but he didn’t have a job and there was no way in hell his foster parents could afford to buy him one. And he knew full well that they wouldn’t have even if they could afford it. Not that it really mattered; the back seat served its purpose just fine, regardless of who owned the car.

Jack looked down at Katie, hardly daring to believe that it was finally happening. She was so beautiful under the car’s dim interior light, her eyes sparkling and her skin smooth. His heart was pounding, and for once he didn’t feel so confident. He wanted her, oh how he’d wanted her, but now that the moment was here, he almost felt afraid. Had she already had sex with Adam, or was it her first time too?

Before he knew what was happening, she’d pulled him down so he was lying on top of her, his hands in her soft hair, her mouth on his and her hand easing into his unbuttoned jeans. He felt a surge of heat when she grabbed his cock, and broke the kiss, propping himself up on his hands.

She grinned. “That got your attention.”

Suddenly Jack couldn’t get his pants off fast enough, his hands shaking in their haste to push them below his hips. Katie helped, leaving a trail of kisses along his slightly fuzzy bare stomach as she did so, and he noticed that she’d already gotten hers off. When had she done that? Time was somehow going simultaneously lighting fast and excruciatingly slow. She gripped his cock again, her hand coated with lube, cold enough to startle him. In his haste he’d almost forgotten about that. “But what about-“

“I’m on the pill. Mom doesn’t know.”

She rubbed her hand slowly up and down his length and Jack had to bite his lip hard as his hips bucked. She let go, her hands finding their way into his already-sweaty hair and gripping it hard. He moaned,  pushing himself inside her, and she grabbed the back of his neck, pulling his face closer to hers as they rocked together. They stayed that way for either a hundred years or a few seconds, Jack wasn’t sure which. This was everything he’d wanted and now he had it, and it was that thought that pushed him over the edge. He came with a shuddering gasp, his sweaty hair swinging in front of his face. He thought he heard Katie moaning over the sound of the blood rushing through his ears. That was good. He lay on top of her, blissful, the sound of their mingled panting thunderous in the quiet of the small-town midnight. He wanted to stay like that forever. 

\---

Jack was no longer Jack when he pulled off his first con; he’d taken to calling himself a different name every time he and Sam arrived in a new place. Sometimes he was Jim, sometimes Mark, Tom, Steve, Doug, or Billy. It depended on the person. Old ladies were easily charmed by the old-fashioned names and he could always tell when someone’s face would light up at a biblical name. Spending his first ten years with that man as his father had given him a sort of sixth sense for fundamentalists. His favorite name was Jonas, though. In fact, he’d begun to actually think of himself as Jonas and Sam was even starting to use it more often than his real name.

Jonas was 22 when he and Sam left their hometown for a life on the road. He’d wanted to get out the moment he turned 18, but Sam was only 13 at the time and he didn’t want to leave her. He’d gotten a job in a factory – mind-numbing work that didn’t pay very well, but he’d made a lot of extra money at his coworkers’ weekly card games. It was enough to rent a tiny apartment that he and Sam shared. For all his game-night bragging, Jonas wasn’t used to feeling proud of himself, but getting his sister away from those foster parents was one of his proudest moments. He didn’t care if it was technically legal or not, and neither did they, as long as he paid them.

Jonas and Sam left that town the day after she graduated high school. They’d gotten on a Greyhound with their few belongings, along with most of the winnings Jonas had saved, and had just… gone. There was a thrill to picking their first destination – neither of them had given it any thought, so they chose at random. Springfield, Illinois seemed as good a place as any.

It only took them a few months to realize exactly how hard their new nomadic lifestyle was going to be.   Motels and food were getting expensive and Jonas and Sam found it hard to find work – not that they’d wanted to settle down, anyway. They’d spent most of their lives in the same tiny town and America was huge, just waiting for them to explore as much of it as they could.

They came up with the details for their scam in a diner in Oklahoma City. It was so much better than washing dishes or, when they got really desperate, begging at train stations. The idea was simple enough: they’d find a charitable soul and ask them for money to get home. “Home” was as far away as possible, which of course resulted in the most expensive ticket. They’d pocket the money and find someone else, keep going until they had a good amount, then move on to the next town and repeat the process.

This sounded simple enough, but the first time Jonas did it he was sure he was going to throw up, pass out, or both. She was a kindly, perfectly harmless elderly woman, and somehow that made it even worse. He was sure she wouldn't believe him, sure she could hear his heart hammering in his chest and could somehow smell the lie. His hands felt slippery with sweat. Oh, God. What if she called the cops? For what, lying? Could you go to go to jail for lying? Was it only stealing after they gave you the money? Jonas took a deep breath and gave her his most heart-melting smile. He’d learned early on to be grateful for his youthful looks: big green eyes, charming crooked smile, innocent face. He could tell people he was 16 and they wouldn't blink an eye. He also had a gangly frame without the height that usually accompanied it, which really sold the haven't-had-a-hot-meal-in-days thing.

“So, ma’am… if you could spare anything at all I’d be really grateful.”

“You poor boy.” She shook her head. “Tell you what, I’ll give you all of the money so you don’t have to go around begging anymore. Then you can get right with your parents as soon as possible. Would you like a cup of tea? There’s a nice little shop just around the corner.”

Jonas could hardly believe his luck. He allowed himself to be led to the coffee shop, feeling slightly lightheaded. Was this real? Had he actually done this? Just a few more minutes and then he’d have $100.

“Here’s my son,” the woman said after they’d gotten their drinks and were seated at a too-small table. She held out her wallet, displaying a picture of a 40-something man in a suit and tie. “He works in Boston now. He’s a lawyer.” Her pride was palpable. “One of the good kind.”

Jonas listened to her talk, and it was either that or the tea (probably the tea) that made him feel somehow… cozy. Safe and warm. He’d almost forgotten about the money when she handed it to him with a kind smile. “I have to be going. But get home safe and please hug your parents.” There were tears in her eyes and Jonas had to turn away. He wasn’t used to being treated kindly and he wasn’t sure if he liked it.

Despite his nerve-wracking first try, Jonas got the hang of it pretty quickly. His story was different every time, depending on the person. Sometimes he was a teenage runaway who's seen the error of his ways and just wants to go back home. Sometimes he was mugged. Sometimes he was on a trip with friends and they ditched him because it turns out they weren't really friends at all. Sometimes he and Sam did it together but most of the time they didn't. She had her own style, and besides, people tended to help you out more when you were all alone. Not everyone agreed to help him, but it amazed him how many did, and without much of a story. It was also amazing how many people's sons or grandsons he resembled. So many gullible people, so many people who melted under his charm. He’d feel bad if they weren’t so stupid and easily fooled. It was their own fault for just swallowing his stories like that. He tried not to think about how he actually enjoyed their company sometimes, once he’d gotten used to the strange sensation of an adult being kind and expecting nothing in return. He was only doing it for the money, of course, not to listen to some stupid old ladies’ stories about what their cats had done that morning. He had better things to do with his time. 

\-- 

$500. They’d made $500 that day between them, and Jonas wanted to celebrate. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d been so successful. Sam was against the idea. His charm never worked on her; maybe she’d built up an immunity over the years. That never stopped him from trying, though.

“Sam, it’s almost Christmas,” Jonas said. “What’s the point of making this money if we don’t get to have fun with it every once in a while? On special occasions?”

“Fine,” she said, with a half-roll of her eyes. “But we’re not spending ALL of it.”

They ended up celebrating with their favorite junk food (Cheetos, chocolate oranges, three flavors of beef jerky – a meal fit for royalty) and a small bottle of vodka. Sam was 19 by then, still not of legal drinking age, so she lingered a block away while Jonas bought it. They were in Buffalo, and the snow was coming down heavily.

After they made their way back to the hotel and had their Christmas party for two, they were still restless. Sam, loosened up by the alcohol, surprised Jonas by suggesting they check out some department stores, “just to look at the decorations.” He agreed and soon they were in the middle of a busy store, both a little tipsy, staring at the throngs of shoppers. Shoppers with lots of money.

“Oh god, Jonas.” It was like she had a sixth sense.

“It would be _so easy_ , Sam,” he said, and she sighed.

“Okay. _One_. Please. Then let’s go back.”

It didn’t take long for Jonas to spot an acceptable target: a plump woman with an expensive-looking handbag examining some overpriced holiday brooches.

“Oh, I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said, purposely bumping into her. He gave her a sad smile, his eyes shining with real tears as they locked with hers. Her face instantly softened and Jonas knew he had her.

“You just kind of look like my mom, and she loved brooches like that too. I miss her. I’ll go, I’m sorry to bother you.” He turned and had to suppress a grin as he felt her arm on his.

“Did she pass on?” the woman asked, her kind face creased with concern.

The hard part was over now. “Yeah,” he said. “Back in August. That’s why I left home. My dad and I got in a real bad fight but now I realize it was just the grief talking. I wish I could go back, but I can’t afford it.”

“Where are you from?” she asked, but Jonas couldn’t answer because all of the air had just gone out of his lungs. He stood there, completely frozen and helpless, as a couple approached.

“Mary, did you find any…” The woman trailed off, a look of horrible recognition on her face. “Wait, aren’t you Jim? The boy I helped yesterday? You said you had to get home to see your sick mother?”

“Uh.” That was all he could manage without passing out. He’d seen this woman yesterday. Her name was Barbara, and she’d given him $120 along with some sandwiches for the road and some very kind words. She didn’t look so kind now.

“He said his mother died a few months ago!” The first woman - Mary- was now glaring at him. “You didn’t give him any money, did you?”

“I did!” Barbara was turning red and her husband looked concerned. “So were you lying to me, young man? Are you some sort of con artist?”

Jonas found that he could finally move again, and he wasted no time, tearing through the store and nearly plowing into several people. “HEY! Someone stop him, he’s a thief!” Barbara cried, but Jonas only heard her very faintly. Where was Sam?

He managed to get to the door and around the block before checking if he was being followed. He wasn’t. He wasn’t going to take any chances, though, and headed for the hotel as quickly as possible without looking suspicious. Sam was a smart girl, she’d find him there.

He heaved himself onto the bed with a deep sigh. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, his mind was flooded with unpleasant thoughts. This was the first time he’d ever been caught and it felt worse than he’d imagined. He just got too cocky, that was all. He and Sam didn’t get out of town fast enough and they definitely shouldn’t have gone to a crowded place like that. Fucking stupid. He felt a pang of worry for her but brushed it off. No one had seen them together. Had she seen what happened?

He also found himself wondering about Barbara and Mary. Why was he even thinking about them? Just as long as they didn’t catch him he’d be fine. As soon as Sam got back they’d leave on the next bus and he’d never see either of them again. They were just suckers, anyway. People like that deserved to be taken advantage of if they were that stupid. He almost believed that until he remembered the look on Barbara’s face. She’d been angry, but there had been hurt in her eyes. It was as if he’d disappointed her, and he didn’t like that feeling at all. He couldn’t let that get to him, though. He had to keep going. One day he and Sam would find a way to get and stay rich and they wouldn't have to do this anymore. One day they'd be safe and warm and loved. 

\-- 

Jonas was 32 when he first laid eyes on that amazing disco ball jacket. He’d gone into the pawn shop to pay back some money, but when he saw it sparkling among the old electronics and dusty framed posters, he stopped in his tracks.

“You wanna try it on?” the shop employee asked, a grin spreading over his face. “It’s pretty cool, right?”

He helped Jonas into the jacket, which fit perfectly. It felt surprisingly light, too, and he tried not to gasp when the employee led him to a mirror. It should have looked tacky and lame, but he actually looked really cool. He looked like a rock star. It was utterly ridiculous and he had no use for it, but he _wanted_ it. More than he’d wanted a car as a teenager, more than he’d wanted those Twinkies 21 years ago. He suddenly knew that if he could have this jacket, he could do anything. He could become another person. He had never seen anything with such crystal clarity in his life.

Two weeks later, the Reverend Jonas Nightingale, preacher and faith healer extraordinaire, was born.


End file.
